Her Mafia Daddy Read online

  Her Mafia Daddy

  Bianca Cole

  Her Mafia Daddy Copyright © 2019 Bianca Cole

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Book cover design by Hot and Steamy Romance Premades

  Contents

  Blurb

  1. Kane

  2. Jasmine

  3. Kane

  4. Jasmine

  5. Kane

  6. Jasmine

  7. Kane

  8. Jasmine

  9. Kane

  10. Jasmine

  11. Kane

  12. Jasmine

  13. Kane

  14. Jasmine

  15. Kane

  16. Jasmine

  17. Kane

  18. Jasmine

  19. Kane

  20. Jasmine

  21. Kane

  22. Jasmine

  23. Epilogue

  Also by Bianca Cole

  About the Author

  Blurb

  Her Mafia Daddy

  He has taken me captive, and I can't stop fantasizing about him tying me to his bed.

  Kane Romano is the most handsome, powerful man I’ve ever met. He’s also the man holding me captive.

  My asshole of a step-dad found himself on the wrong side of the mafia, and then offered me up in exchange for his life. How does he have the right? I’m eighteen years old, and my step-dad doesn’t own me.

  Problem is, Kane Romano agrees. You don't fight with a Romano, unless you want to end up in an unmarked grave.

  I should be scared, but every time I look into those dark eyes, I feel safe and protected. When we’re alone he’s a gentleman, but around anyone else he turns quiet and cold. There’s a thrill being here with him. Even though I’m a virgin, I find myself wanting this man—a man who is more than twice my age and claims he owns me now.

  When he asks me to call him daddy, I know I won't be able to refuse him…

  1

  Kane

  The thumping bass pumps through me from head to toe, adding to the adrenaline spiking through my veins. I can feel the tension coiling through my muscles. I’m always on edge when I’m out for blood. There’s a chance something could go wrong, as I’m not in a safe line of work.

  I walk a few more steps into the club, scanning the room for any threats, since it’s become second nature to expect one. It doesn’t matter if I’m walking into my home, I’m always alert. A few eyes lock onto me and my men, and the whispers break out.

  Yeah, let them fucking whisper. If they think I’m here for trouble, then they are right. I’m at this shit-hole of a club on Rick’s orders. Normally, my brother wouldn’t send me for this, but Alex Cavino has stepped way over the line this time. He’s not keeping up his payments on a sizable loan, despite rumors that business is better than ever.

  If we let this go unresolved, it will set a bad example, and people will think they can fuck with us. So, I’m here to make sure everyone knows that couldn’t be further from the truth. Blood will spill tonight—Alex Cavino’s blood. No one fucks with the Romano family and gets away with it, especially not a lowlife like him.

  I crack my knuckles, certain there’s no immediate threat to me in this club. The place is packed with people and business is booming. It raises the all-important question why the debt payments haven’t reached us for two months in a row. My gun rests against my ribs under my jacket, and my fingers are itching to reach under and touch it, but I resist.

  This crappy place will be absorbed into our empire as payment once Cavino is dead. There was a time years ago when killing felt wrong to me. I’m not always the one to do it, often it’s my guys that pull the trigger, but anytime I do, I feel nothing. I just sell another piece of my soul with every crime I carry out, ripping what I once was to shreds.

  This is my life and there’s no point fighting what I am or who I am. A show of weakness or even unwillingness to kill threatens our family. I’m not going to be the one to fuck up.

  My father always said there was no use running from the truth. There’s no changing your name if you’re a Romano. When I was younger, I wanted nothing to do with the family business. My father soon beat that out of me and turned me into the monster I am today. I don’t enjoy doing what I do, but it’s my only choice.

  “Sir, I’ve scanned the perimeter, and I’m sure everything is secure,” Jaz, one of my men, states.

  I give him a nod, even though I’d already made that observation. The only path to the bar is through the writhing bodies of the people dancing in this hellhole. I take a step forward and make my way toward the bar. As I step onto the dance floor, people make way for me the moment they notice me. I’m used to people shying away—one of the perks of being my brother’s right-hand man. Rick is the main boss of our family operation.

  There are two stools free at the bar. I turn to Jaz. “Find somewhere close and keep alert.”

  He gives me a quick nod. “Sir.”

  I him walk to a nearby wall and lean against it, keeping his eyes on me and our surroundings. I pick a stool at the bar, settling in amongst the people standing and sitting around it. Tension ripples through the air, and people sitting nearby shy away.

  Good.

  This is the reaction I need today. There’s no doubt most people haven’t forgotten who we are and what we’re capable of, only Alex Cavino. I rest my palms on top of the bar and search for a bartender. Only two of them are on duty tonight, and they are both run off their feet, neither of them have noticed me.

  Again, it’s impossible not to wonder why this guy isn’t making his repayments. Cash is flowing tonight, and according to rumors, it always is.

  Who the hell does he think he is?

  No one tries to pull the wool over our eyes—no one. Either this asshole is too cocky for his own good, or just plain fucking stupid. I’ve never met him myself. My youngest brother, Leo, was the one to agree the terms of the loan. He came to us, begging us to save him from bankruptcy.

  “Sorry for keeping you waiting, what can I get you?” The bartender asks.

  I glance up at him, and it’s amusing to watch all the blood drain from his face as he recognizes who I am. He can’t look me in the eye. “I’ll have a glass of scotch on the rocks, and I need to speak with your employer right away.”

  The man nods. “Of course, sir.” His hands are shaking as he moves to the back shelves, grabbing a twenty-five-year-old bottle of scotch whiskey from the top. The man knows who I am and knows I’d only expect the best. He’s a smart kid. I watch as he pours me a double.

  “Here you go, sir, on the house.” He places the glass down in front of me, and I give him a short nod. “I’ll find Mr. Cavino for you.”

  The guy walks over to the other bartender. She has her back turned to me, and I’d already noticed what a perfect figure she has. Her ass looks amazing in the tight, black dress she’s wearing. I’d almost hoped she was going to be the one to come and serve me, but that’s not why I’m here.

 
I can’t be distracted by a woman. I can’t get a glimpse of her face over all the other people crowding the bar, blocking my view. I take a long swig of my drink, enjoying the way it warms me, taking the edge off.

  My game needs to be on form tonight. Cavino may be stupid, but I’m not taking any risks with this asshole. One of the greatest things my father ever taught me was to never underestimate your enemies. He taught me to expect the unexpected–I guess he was useful for some things.

  It’s the main thing that has kept me and my brothers alive this long. My father wasn’t so lucky because he got sloppy. I’ve always vowed to make sure I never make the mistakes he did. Not to mention, in the end, he became paranoid and ended up pushing away everyone he could trust.

  At least I’ve got my brothers, well half-brothers. My mom was our father’s first wife. She died when I was one-year-old. Within a year of her death he was remarried and Rick was born. Those two are everything to me, and everything I do is to keep us safe. My father may not have given me a choice when he forced me into this business, but I know who I am deep down, no matter what I’ve done.

  My father was an asshole. He never explained what happened to my mom. A woman I can’t remember at all. He had no photographs of her to show me, not even wedding photos. Only a lousy, tiny photo of her that had been taken at a photo booth. I keep it in my wallet all the time. It was as if she was wiped from the face of the earth, and knowing my father, I’m sure it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

  The man was a cold-hearted son of a bitch. Rick and Leo’s mom got killed in an accident when they were young too. All of us believe our father was behind it, especially after we found out she stole money from him and tried to get away. Only problem is, we were never able to prove it. Let’s just say I didn’t shed a tear when he passed away, neither did my brothers.

  My eyes remain on the bartenders, particularly the beautiful brunette with her perfect ass. The guy who served me walks away from the bar, forcing me to stop staring at her and watch where he goes.

  Cavino may well try to run, which would be a big mistake. There’s no chance he’s getting out of this club alive—my men are covering all exits of this building. The bartender glances over his shoulder, as he walks toward a set of swing doors at the back of the club. I spot a staircase heading downwards to a basement. It is perfect for what I’ve got planned for this jackass.

  I keep my eyes focused on my glass and wait. The amount of people around the bar has thinned considerably, particularly since I took a seat. It makes me want to smile at how much power and fear our name holds. Fear is our strength.

  I glance up from my glass and my heart rate accelerates, as the stunning brunette bartender is staring right at me. She doesn’t break my gaze as our eyes meet. A shock of electricity pulses through my veins. A shiver runs down my spine at the look in her eyes and her pure beauty.

  She’s way younger than I thought from behind. In fact, she looks too fucking young to be serving alcohol at a bar. Her face is naturally beautiful, and she’s only wearing a small amount of makeup. Her dark brown hair falls in natural waves around her heart-shaped face. The most cock-stirring feature of hers is those bright blue eyes, holding my gaze as if she doesn’t know who the fuck I am.

  A tingling need ignites in my balls and my cock thickens in my pants. As if I’ve got no control what so ever, the image of her butt naked and tied to my bed flashes through my mind. This is unusual for me. Women rarely get me this aroused from a look, but she is something else.

  This is the last thing I need right now—a distraction. Whoever she is, I intend to get her into my bed after I’ve dealt with her pathetic excuse of a boss. Still, she’s staring me out, unflinching. It turns me on, making my cock throb and leak precum into my tight boxer briefs. She licks her pouty, thick lips, and it makes me so hard I’m sure I could explode any minute.

  I let out a sigh of relief, as some asshole calls out to her, drawing her eyes away from mine. My breathing is labored, and my heart is pounding against my rib cage. I take a long gulp of my drink, draining every drop. The warm liquid burns on its way down. I keep my attention off the firecracker of a bartender who has me hooked on her with one fucking stare.

  I need to get this over and done with. No distractions, not until after I’ve finished off the piece of shit who owns this place. We can’t let anyone think we’re going soft. It’s the number one rule—always exceed your reputation.

  2

  Jasmine

  I’m ready to throw in the towel. My feet are aching, and we’re so busy, it’s a joke. My step-dad insists I work this bar to pay for my keep, as he calls it. I’m eighteen years old, and I shouldn’t be working in a club. For one, it is illegal under the age of twenty-one, but everything my step-father does is illegal. And, for two, it’s so short-staffed and I’m not even getting paid.

  At least it won’t be long until I move out from under his roof. As soon as summer is over, I’ve got a paid job as an intern starting at a local paper. The intention is to put the first month’s pay cheque down on a deposit for my own place. Finally break away from a life around these kind of people—criminals.

  Alex married my mother when I was eleven years old, and we moved in with him. He’s a low-life criminal who makes his money dealing drugs, on top of running this rundown club. My mother died last year after an overdose on the drugs he constantly supplied her. Ever since her death, Alex has treated me worse than ever, acting like a complete an utter asshole.

  “Jasmine,” Ethan mutters my name, breaking me from my thoughts. His face is pale, and his lips in a serious, straight line that sends a wave of dread through me. He’s never serious. “There’s a Romano here to see your step-dad. I’ve got to go and get him.” He gives me an apologetic look. “You’re going to have to hold the fort for a few minutes. I’ll hurry back.”

  I sigh heavily, nodding. “Fine, just be quick.” I’m not sure what I’m more worried about, the fact that a Romano member is sitting at the bar, or that I’ve got to serve all these people myself.

  The Romano Mafia is infamous. They run the entire east-coast of America. I wonder what lackey has been sent to talk to Alex, my step-dad. “A vodka on ice, please, sweetheart,” a man says, breaking my daze.

  I give him a nod. “Of course, coming right up.”

  I grab the bottle of vodka off the back shelf, turning around and scanning the clients at the bar. The moment I see him, I almost drop the bottle on the floor. There’s no doubting who he is—Kane Romano.

  I’ve never seen him in person before, but those tattoos on his neck and left arm are unmistakable. Everyone talks about the hardened and brutal right-hand man and brother of mob boss Rick Romano. Kane wouldn’t visit someone unless the person has pissed off the mob.

  What kind of shit has Alex gotten himself into now?

  His rippling muscles are barely contained in the tight, white shirt he’s wearing, making my mouth water. Kane Romano may be dangerous, but he’s the most stunning man I’ve ever seen in my life. I’ve never seen a man so powerful and muscular. Not to mention, those beautiful dark eyes that you just want to drown in.

  I should know, as I’m holding his gaze like I don’t know who he is. I’m not sure why I’m not cowering away from him like the rest of the people here, especially considering the way the power rolls off of him—it’s enough to make anyone quake in their boots.

  Perhaps, it’s because I’m too scared to move, or maybe it’s just that he’s looking at me in a way that sends an exciting thrill through my body. I’ve got a feeling it’s the latter. This man makes me hot from just a stare, and I kind of like it.

  As far as I’m aware, he’s a year younger than my step-dad, forty-four years old. He doesn’t look his age, though. I let my gaze dip again to the tattoo on his neck, which sprawls up the side of his head—it’s a piece of art.

  My knees shake at the thought of him taking me to bed and fucking me. I bite my bottom lip, realizing that’s ridiculous. I’m a vi
rgin and something tells me Kane would be anything but gentle.

  Why the hell does that thought send a thrill racing through me?

  “Sweetheart, what the fuck is the hold up with my vodka?” The guy who ordered shouts.

  I shake my head. “Sorry, coming right up.” I step back to the bar and pour the guy a glass, before passing it to him.

  “Next time get on with it, and do what you’re paid to do, whore.”

  I ignore the insult, biting back the retort on the tip of my tongue that I don’t even get paid for this shit. I give him a short nod. “That will be five bucks, please.”

  He shakes his head. “No fucking way, I’m not paying for this shit after you made me wait, bitch.”

  I clench my jaw, trying not to let him get to me. There’s always one asshole every single night, and this guy is being a class fucking example. Sure, I took a little too long with his drink order, but you can’t use that as a reason not to pay. “Sorry, sir, but I’m not at liberty to offer you a free drink, and I’ll need you to pay the five dollars owed.”

  He knocks back the drink and then smirks. “What drink?”

  I look between the glass and the guy, wondering if it is even worth the fucking hassle, all to fill my step-dad’s pockets. One shot of vodka isn’t worth making a fuss over. With a heavy sigh, I reach for the radio attached to my belt. I’ll let him go without paying, but I’ll have to have him kicked out for this.